My leg bounced uncontrollably against the bus floor, the metal rattling with every shake. I couldn't stop it even if I tried—the anxiety was chewing through me like acid. Bella's hand slid up and down my shoulder in slow, steady strokes, trying to ground me. The gentle pressure of her palm should've helped, but my nerves were a wildfire.
The worst part was how backwards this all felt. She was supposed to be the nervous one—she was the one about to ask Elara something that could easily get her killed. But here I was shaking like a leaf while she sat there calm as ever. Embarrassing didn't even begin to cover it.
"Noah," she murmured, leaning close enough that her breath warmed the side of my face, "I'm the one risking my life. You need to calm down..." She pressed a soft kiss into my hair, slow and careful, like she was afraid I'd break. "I'll still be breathing afterwards. And you will too."
She was right. Rationally, I knew she was right. If all hell broke loose, I'd still wake up tomorrow. But could I wake up without Bella beside me? Could I go back to pretending everything was normal when she wasn't in my life anymore? The thought twisted my stomach into knots.
I let out a long, shaky sigh and leaned harder into her, burying myself into the familiar warmth of her shoulder. Her jacket smelled like pine and smoke—chaotic but comforting. Her fingers moved to the back of my neck, tracing slow circles that melted the tension out of me inch by inch.
"You're gonna be in heaven once she accepts," Bella whispered, voice so sure it felt like prophecy. "Watch. This is gonna work."
My eyes grew heavy, the bus engine humming beneath us like a lullaby. Her heartbeat thudded gently against my temple, steady and strong. Safe. So safe. I let the anxiety fade just enough to slide into darkness.
And with her arms wrapped around me, I drifted off into sleep.
"Come on, Noah—we're here." Bella nudged my shoulder gently. I blinked hard, vision slowly sharpening into the bright, stabbing sunlight pouring through the bus window. Noon already. Christ. My head felt heavy, like someone had filled my skull with wet sand. Anxiety exhaustion was its own kind of hangover.
We stepped off the bus, small pebbles crunching under our feet. I didn't even look at the driver—there was no need. She already knew we appreciated the ride.
Bella kept a hand around my wrist, practically pulling me forward. My body felt sluggish and floaty, the kind of tired where your limbs stop listening to you.
"Hey, I have an idea, Noah." Bella stopped and turned, stepping in front of me. Then—out of nowhere—she crouched down, squatting low enough that her broad back faced me.
I blinked again, confused. "What are you—?"
"Come on," she said softly, tilting her head with a tiny smile. "I'll carry you. Sleep all you want, baby."
For a second, pride tried to flare up, telling me I wasn't weak enough to need to be carried. But my body disagreed. I swallowed, stepped forward, and climbed onto her back, my legs wrapping around her hips. Bella lifted me as if I weighed nothing—like I was a backpack instead of a full-grown man.
My arms hooked around her collar naturally, like they were meant to fit there. Her hands locked around the backs of my legs, warm and steady, and she started walking with smooth, sure steps. The world swayed with her movement, slow and comforting.
I rested my cheek against her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin—warm, a little salty, safe as hell. Her pulse thumped steadily beneath my lips, and god, I could've melted into her right then and there.
"Just rest," she whispered, voice low and protective. "I've got you."
The tension in my body drained like water from a cracked glass. I felt my eyes fall shut again, the rhythm of her steps and her breathing lulling me back under. I let go of everything—of fear, of dread, of the storm waiting at home.
Wrapped in Bella's heat, carried like something precious, I sank back into sleep, forgetting the world, forgetting consequences...
Forgetting everything but Elara and Bella.
Everything blurred past the bus windows—the trees, the houses, the parked cars—smearing together like wet paint. By the time my brain caught up with my body, we were already standing at the edge of my lawn, sunlight pouring over the grass like gold.
Bella gently lowered me to my feet, her hands lingering on my back until she was sure I was steady. My legs felt weak, jelly-like, but I managed.
I fished my key out of my pocket, slid it into the lock, and flicked the door open. Bella stayed close behind me, quiet but protective, her presence a warm weight against my back.
Inside, the house was dim and calm, the faint hum of the AC filling the air. I looked to the side—and there she was.
Elara lay curled on the couch, breathing softly, hair messily fanned across the cushions. She looked... peaceful. Innocent in a way I rarely saw.
I walked over and kneeled beside her, brushing the back of my hand across her cheek. Then a few soft kisses—one on her forehead, another on her temple, then finally on her lips. Her eyelashes fluttered, and slowly her eyes opened, lighting up the second she recognized me.
"Noah," she whispered, voice thick with sleep, "my baby."
She cupped the back of my neck and kissed me deeply, slow and warm, like every cell in her body was relieved to feel mine. After a moment we parted, both of us breathless in the quiet room.
Elara sat up and stretched, arms raised high, ribs expanding under her shirt. She noticed Bella and nodded politely—not hostile, not territorial—just acknowledging.
Bella nodded back, shoulders square, confident but respectful.
"I got out earlier than I thought," Elara said with a tired laugh, rubbing her eyes. "I wanted to surprise you—maybe take you out somewhere—but as you can see..." She gestured to the couch. "Tiredness won again."
"Don't worry," I chuckled, "I'm exhausted too. Bella had to carry me here—that's how gone I was."
Elara looked past me to Bella and smiled—a real one, soft around the eyes. Good. Good sign.
"Well," I said, standing and stretching my back. "I should start dinner. We're having fried chicken sandwiches tonight."
I grabbed my backpack and tossed it into the bedroom—mine and Elara's room. And hopefully Bella's room too, one day soon. A silent little promise.
I headed into the kitchen, rolling my sleeves up, already switching mental gears into cooking mode. Behind me, I heard the quiet murmur of Bella and Elara settling into the living room.
Tonight was the night.
And god, I hoped it wouldn't end in blood.
"And... done! Come and eat, girls!" I called out, wiping my hands on the apron. Bella and Elara moved almost simultaneously—like wolves hearing the dinner bell—sliding into their seats across from each other, leaving the center chair open for me.
I carried all three plates carefully, balanced along my arms—steam rising from the food in warm ribbons that smelled like heaven. I set one plate down in front of Bella, another in front of Elara, and then the last at my own spot.
Each plate held a massive fried chicken sandwich stacked high—crunchy golden chicken breast peeking out from under crisp lettuce and thick tomato slices, mayo glistening against the toasted brioche bun. On the side, a handful of potato wedges, perfectly browned and seasoned, still crackling softly from the heat.
I slid into my seat between them, the warmth from both of their bodies surrounding me even without touching. Bella stared down at the food like she was seeing God for the first time, eyes widening—her pupils dilated like she might actually start drooling. Elara had already picked up her sandwich, inspecting it with an approving grin.
But Bella... she looked frozen. Like all thoughts had been hijacked by hunger. The mission, the plan, the courage she'd worked up for a whole day—gone. Completely gone.
I cleared my throat loudly.
Bella jolted, blinking twice, then turned her head toward me. Our eyes locked, and I tilted my head just slightly—a small silent reminder.
Now.
Her eyes grew wide with realization, and she swallowed hard, her hands suddenly trembling around the sandwich. Elara looked up from the sandwich, eyebrows raised, unaware of the storm about to break.
This was it.
Bella took in a deep breath, shoulders rising and falling as she steadied herself.
And the world went quiet.
"Before we dig in," Bella began, her voice shaky but loud enough to cut through the comfortable silence of the dining room, "I've been meaning to ask you, Elara... would you... perhaps be open to sharing Noah?"
The words hung in the air like a blade suspended by a thread.
My breath stopped, my entire body locked up, and without even thinking, my eyes squeezed shut. I braced for the sound of a chair scraping violently back, for Elara's voice to explode like thunder—maybe even the sickening metallic scrape of a knife being pulled from a drawer.
But instead—
Elara chuckled.
Not a cruel laugh. A calm, genuine, almost amused one.
My eyes snapped open.
She didn't look furious. She wasn't stiff or shaking with rage. She was biting into her chicken sandwich casually, chewing like she'd heard someone ask her to pass the salt. The universe felt like it had inverted.
What the fuck was happening?
She swallowed, set the sandwich down slowly, and wiped her hands with a napkin. Then she looked between us—first me, then Bella—her eyes shockingly soft instead of blazing with fire.
"Usually," she began, voice low but steady, "I'd cut someone's tongue off for even saying that." She raised an eyebrow at Bella and then smirked. "But Bella... honestly? I see you as a sister. And I see it in your eyes every single day—how much you love him. You're not pretending, you're not playing games. You love him exactly like I do."
Bella froze, hands shaking around her own sandwich.
"So," Elara continued, exhaling, "I'll allow it. But ONLY you and me. No other bullshit. No secrets. We love him the same. That's the rule."
My chest tightened so violently I felt like I could burst. My vision blurred with tears I didn't even realize were forming. Bella broke instantly—she covered her mouth with a fist as tears spilled down her cheeks, her whole body trembling.
"Thank you," she choked out, voice cracking. "Thank you, Elara. I love you guys so much—thank you." She wiped at her eyes desperately with napkins, her breath shaking.
"Alright, alright," Elara laughed, the tension dissolving like sugar in coffee. "Let's save the crying for later. I'm starving."
Me and Bella both laughed through our tears—awkward, shaky, emotional laughs—but they felt like oxygen flooding back into our lungs.
And finally, we dug in.
The first bite tasted like victory.